


The Egoist Dreamer

by MDCBD



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dreams, Gen, I am adding the Cloak as a character too bad if the tag isn't recommended, I don't give a single orange peel you hear me???, I have no idea what else to tag, I love AUs in case you didn't notice, Neutral Ending, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, Not Doctor Strange (2016) Compliant, Post-Doctor Strange (2016), Reunions, Sacrifice, The Cloak of Levitation need its character tag, Why is there not 'not doctor strange compliant' tag?, You'll see a lot of those babies with me, fine i'll do it myself, guys the tags are spoilers with me, hmm, now that this is out of the way..., pfffff, seriously idk what to tag, sh.t the tags are getting out of hand, should I tag sleeping beauty elements?, technically untrue but not really, they always are, what to tag, why is there no 'neutral ending' tag???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 11:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20638079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MDCBD/pseuds/MDCBD
Summary: Stephen Strange was not the most egoist of men. He was secure enough in his pride and sense of self to know that he was not the most humble either –not after everything he’d done and accomplished, all the paths he took that others couldn’t even begin to see and made him one of the best-, but he was not the most egoist man.Once, he decided that he would be, and let himself dream of what could have happened if had chosen the egoist choice, just once.





	The Egoist Dreamer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amethyst-noir (Arbonne)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arbonne/gifts).

> That got so out of hand, you have no idea. xD
> 
> It was absolutely not supposed to go this way, but eh, I decided to go with it and edited it so it did. xD

Stephen Strange was not the most egoist of men. He was secure enough in his pride and sense of self to know that he was not the most humble either –not after everything he’d done and accomplished, all the paths he took that others couldn’t even begin to see and made him one of the best-, but he was not the most egoist man.

That’s why it hurt, when, after all he had done, all the things he had sacrificed (his life, so many times, too many times, his oath, almost his mental health too…), he saw the disappointment in Wong’s eyes after he announced that he didn’t want to go further in his studies.

Stephen Strange was not the most egoist of men, but for that brief span of seconds when Wong watched him as though he was staring at a stranger, as though he had been a disappointment, a waste of efforts (at least that’s how his post-Dormammu anxiety interpreted it), perhaps a bit too much like who they used to be to each other, he decided that he would be, if only for as long as it would take to leave.

Leaving Katmandu was laughingly easy, once Stephen had decided that the guilt was not worth it, that the world had fared without him before, and would still without him in the future. After all, he was only one man, one man with a startlingly good memory and a gift for the Mystic Arts, whatever that entailed. And hadn’t the Ancient One said that it wasn’t about him? Well, there he was, deciding that one big organization could work without him in it. Kamar-taj had dozens of trainees, but less masters, thanks to Kaecilius, still, it would work without him perfectly fine.

Magic flooding in his hands, soothing the aches and calming the nerves, finally healed, if not really, but did it matter? He had what he came for. Stephen had saved the planet from a dimensional being that took pleasure in killing him over and over, until it grew bored and frantic and manic, and couldn’t support the flow of time in a dimension usually devoid of it. If he ever had any debt to the order for taking him in, nurturing him, healing him, he had paid them with all those deaths, all his pain. It was time for the world to start paying back.

There was no such thing as karma, no such thing as universal justice (or perhaps there was, but then it would be the most terribly flawed thing), so he took the matter into his hands, quite literally, and healed himself, before leaving.

His only regret was that he had to leave the Cloak, although not by the garment’s will -it was perfectly fine following him wherever he went- but just because he knew he would probably never use it again, and in the short time he got to knew the relic, he knew that he could not condemn it to a life of hiding or pretending, and told it to go live its life to the fullest, if only without him. The piece of clothing had squeezed him for a long time, reluctant, then floated away to where it wanted, perhaps even off the Earth, who knew.

Going back to New-York after what felt like an eternity, while it had only been but a few days since the last time -not even enough for all of his wounds to heal- should have been harder, with almost no money to his name, and nowhere to go. But perhaps he had learned in his time in Katmandu, since when he came back, someone was waiting for him.

He was not sure, at first, how he was going to proceed, right when he had taken his decision, and still no one knew. Stephen had cursed his foolishness and his thoughtlessness back in the days when he had been frantic for a cure and left to Nepal, not even thinking about how he would come back, where he would live if he did, and so on. But then he had checked his emails, and for the first time since that day when he had pushed her away, Christine had answered one of his email.

It was nothing much, but after the emotions of the past days –months, really (years in his mind)-, he had never been more grateful for familiarity, and had answered as soon as possible.

It was his luck, really, she was having troubles sleeping, and decided that now might be a good time to talk to him about everything she’s missed in his life, which then prompted long apologies from him, a few from her, and several days later, here he was, standing in her living room, where he would live until a better solution came.

One truly didn’t value their friends (or only friend left, Mordo was MIA and Wong and him might never see each other again) until they were in dire need of help of any kind, and they were here to support you, be it physically or mentally. Though he was still a bit sore there, which she quickly noticed, and made him spill about in less time than he would ever admit to (he was still sensible okay, and he really needed to talk about it with someone who would not just thank him for saving them all then move on as if it was expected of him to just take the praise and leave -like a hungry dog taking a bone and hiding afterwards in fear of getting robbed– he still thrived in praise, but right now he only needed someone to worry, to care), he was getting a bit better as time passed, though the occasional zooming out and nightmares woke him up at night.

But things got better, with his hands back and his knowledge intact, if perhaps even reinforced, he took the time to get back up to speed and learn to live with his hands again, found a new job, and lived on. After a few months, Christine and he decided to stay in colocation and he bought a bed, made himself a room in an unused study, and lived here, sharing the rent and bills with her. Both were too busy for a love life anyway, and after last time and everything in between, they were perfectly fine with staying friends.

It wasn’t until a few years later that he got reconnected with the Mystic Arts, if only by accident. Two years after he had left Kamar-taj, Stephen decided that perhaps there was one thing he missed more than learning magic or being able to pull all-nighters in the astral dimension while reading books about energy manipulation (that, he was still capable of, if he wanted, but Christine had quickly showed him the error of his ways, and really, he owed her one for spilling tea on her notes after a two-week streak of astral reading and his mind not being able to take it anymore, so he only did it a few times here and there), and that thing was Wong.

With time to heal and experience, he could recognize that what he had mistook for disappointment and perhaps anger was probably only grief mixed with Wong’s intent to cool his expression and not show his distress at seeing another friend leave, so soon after losing so many others, a mentor, and coming back to life. The entire ordeal hadn’t been easy on him too, and Stephen’s decision must’ve hurt him as much as Wong’s apparent reaction –but he knew better now- had to him.

So he had decided to visit, sue him, he couldn’t spend all his days working, resting or spending time with Christine.

Which is how he found himself face-to-face with Tony Stark, of all people, Bruce Banner –and wasn’t that a surprise, when he realized he hadn’t heard about the Hulk’s alter ego, or the Hulk himself for years- and the man he had come to see, his friend, and Kamar-Taj’s librarian. Wong.

In hindsight, presenting himself as a fellow master to the heroes may not have been the best idea, especially considering that he wasn’t wearing the appropriate attire, and the Cloak hadn’t been seen since the day he left, and really, the only thing strange about him was his name (he was reduced to making puns about himself, all of this had gone sideways way too fast for his taste).

But he stayed there as he heard Wong and two of the Avengers (unless Dr. Banner wasn’t an Avengers anymore?) talk about alien warlords and Infinity Stones –hold on, that’s what Wong meant by ‘you still have much to learn’?- and okay, he definitely didn’t come for that.

But life had plans of his own, and when Wong decided to head back to Kamar-taj to go secure the eye, he decided to follow to keep up the façade and perhaps talk-

-only to get kidnapped by a grey alien. And no, really, he was not here for that, the Eye was staying on him only because Wong was hurt and had casted a quick spell on him so it could not get removed (damnit Wong! He didn’t even really know why he was here, but it was certainly not for that!), and now he was on an alien ship, almost leaving the Earth, with no one the wiser but his friend(?) who was probably unconscious.

Christine would not let that go, if he ever came back.

Somehow though, he got saved, before those horrible needles did any real damage to him (still going to add the experience to the list of things best left forgotten), and stuck on a ship with Iron Man, and a Spider-themed hero, who turned out to be a teen, of all the people. But what the hell, he really didn’t want to know, and he had left that life behind him, which he promptly explained to Stark, leaving the man thoroughly unimpressed, but not as dismissive as he could have been, which was nice, but didn’t turn the ship around.

Well, he was stuck on a mission to save the universe now, how did his life come to this? He should’ve stayed in bed this morning, damn him and his rare spurt or nostalgia, next time he missed someone, he’d pick up drawing them or something, definitely not go see them in person. Or he’d go with Christine, she would’ve stopped him from going after Wong, sensible woman that she was.

It’s only when he saw the incoming planet in front of them, that he realized that he would need the use of his powers again, as Stark and Spider-Man scrambled around in shiny nanotech armors and super-healing in the case of the teen, he was left with only his wits and terrifyingly vulnerable body, and the ability to unlock powers that would surely be needed in the future fight.

Stephen hadn’t gone far in his training, but being at the hands of Dormammu in the time loop had given him quite the time to train back then, and so some spells he could still use perfectly, if needed. But that wasn’t what he needed right now, no, he was going to whisk them away, thanks to the one thing he had been doing for two years now, basic energy manipulation, and a bit of space warping.

The pain in his hands when he stopped channeling energy in them was very faint, like an itching he couldn’t get rid of, it had been years after all, and they had healed fine. He brought up the very faint knowledge he had about teleportation, then tried the trick on a broken piece inside the ship, shuddering when it succeeded, and called to the two heroes who were waiting for the collision to happen.

He barely had the time to explain his plan to them, and they only agreed because anything else would lead to his death, a few broken bones in Starks’s case and some scratches and bruises on Spider-Man. Perhaps in another life things would have gone more smoothly, he would’ve had more knowledge and training and could’ve formed one of the more complex shield he knew could protect them efficiently. Perhaps he wouldn’t even be there, he would’ve destroyed the Time Stone, or not been kidnapped by the telepath, but those were only what-ifs, and when the ship impacted a star-shaped building on Titan, Stephen braced himself, cradled in Spider-Man’s arms (the most likely to not get hurt and be able to stay stable), and as soon as he saw the dusty ground, he teleported them all away, safe from the crash.

They ended in different places than where he wanted, but it would suffice for now. They were on Titan, and safe. What happened next was nothing short of hilarious, if one could laugh at oneself for almost getting stabbed, blasted and killed by stranger, but at this point Stephen was willing to put a lot on the account of hysteria.

The hysteria didn’t last long, however, when he saw a familiar red cloak wiggling inside of Peter’s web, around a woman with antennas. Both of them stilled, Stephen’s hands trembling as usual, and the Cloak for once not trying to free Mantis and itself from where they were trapped. He had only needed to say a choked up “Cloak?” for the red fabric to find a way to get itself free and wrap around him in a reunion hug only seen in cheesy movies.

But damn if his life didn’t feel like one at this point. He hugged it back with all his might, happy to see his old partner back, and have such a trusty ally back to watch his back, quite literally.

Stephen would have liked to say then that with the Cloak at his side, things were much easier, but that wasn’t true. His clothes were a bit torn up from where he had been attacked by Quill, and he was far away from home, his last memory from Earth being Kamar-taj partially destroyed and on fire due to the attack of Thanos’ children and an injured Wong trusting the universe’s fate into his no-longer shaking hands, as if he knew that despite everything Stephen would still do all he could to protect it, as he had before.

Damn him.

Damn them all.

Of course he would.

Stephen Strange was not the most egoist of men, once, he had decided he would, if only for his own gain and sanity. Two years later he somehow found himself back to square one, not knowing if his choice had even affected anything in his life, if he was always destined to be here (but she hadn’t seen past her death, she didn’t know he would leave, he couldn’t be sure it didn’t make a difference). He didn’t want to die here, he had a life back on Earth, albeit not the flashy one he leaded before, but still a fulfilling one, filled with work that made him proud, and a friend whom he didn’t want to make sad, and perhaps even a relationship to mend with Wong; he didn’t want to live in a time loop after all the time it had taken him to value his life again.

It was not about him, she had said, but wasn’t it? The math was simple, he didn’t want to be here, not really (or perhaps he did), but the only way to go home was to fight, and win. And for that he only saw one way.

He sat on the dusty rock, legs crossed, orange sand sticking to his jean and boots. The Cloak lifted him in the air, as it had two years (or many more) ago, and with a last inhale to center himself, he opened the Eye, and closed his owns.

* * *

He opened his eyes.

The orange sky of Titan greeted him, the dusty planet a solid presence under him.

Gently, the Cloak let him down on the rock. In the background, he could hear noises, but not make them clearly as they were swirling around in his head, until he felt a hand on his shoulder, and could make out a voice amidst everything, an anchor, a question.

Was he okay? He would be, soon.

Stephen put a shaking hand on the Iron Man’s glove, which got a lingering glance, then looked up to see a worried Tony Stark watching him for signs of distress. “Help me up,” he rasped, throat a bit dry. The man did not ask questions, just complied. Stephen stumbled, then straightened thanks to the hand helping and the Cloak. He went to the Guardians and started talking without letting anyone stopping him, and they all listened.

Without wasting any time, as they started to prepare, he went to Tony, and took him aside.

“I lied.”

The reaction was instantaneous. “What?!”

But Stephen didn’t let him talk, barely let him absorb the information and immediately carried on with his real plan, laying everything at his feet and wide eyes. When he was done, the man just looked at him like he was crazy, but with a begrudging sort of respect. Stephen knew it would be enough. He knew the man would understand.

He briefly smiled to him, and gave Tony a letter he had been magically writing while he had been explaining what would need to happen, and asked him to give it to a special friend of his (he hoped she wouldn’t be mad, he had never verified how she fared, it had been so long). Then, he bid the genius his farewell, after so many robbed ones in other lives, he thought he deserved this one.

And finally, Stephen turned to the one person he still had to see, Mantis.

For saving the Cloak, he said, for taking care of it, he thanked her. She didn’t knew the real impact her gesture would have, and needn’t to, but still, thanking her felt good. She was a genuinely sympathetic person, with a kind heart, and he would never thank her enough for what she did.

As a last request, he asked her help in a spell, a simple one, he said, but quite indestructible. She followed him, and they went to a carved stone that he knew Tony had made while he was talking to her.

Once more, he unclasped the Cloak and faced it. No words were needed, it already knew what would happen, and squeezed him, before flying away, to other skies and people. He laid in the stone -curved like the inside of an egg-, and made the gestures necessary for the spell. In the corner of his eyes, he saw the Guardians bickering, Iron Man talking to his mentee and giving him directions, then looked up to Mantis.

“Do it.”

Her fingers approached his temple, but just before she touched his brow, she hesitated, then spoke. “What did you do, earlier, when you were surrounded by green light?”

Stephen looked at her, a peaceful smile playing on his lips, knowing how close he was to finally rest.

“Dreaming,” he whispered, as if it was a secret he was sharing with her.

He lifted his head to her hand, her fingers touching his forehead. Her antennas lit with light and he felt fatigue overtake him. The spell triggered, wrapping the effect of Mantis’ empathic power on a loop, making him fall into a deeper slumber. The Eye opened and a green light surrounded him, forming a cocoon around his body as his mind lost itself into the abyss of an unending rest.

Later, the spot where he lay would be attacked by many things, a moon, Infinity Stones, people, but he would remain untouched, his body channeling power as he had done for two years, and would for many. His mind would stay at rest, unperturbed, unattainable, dreaming, and the Time Stone would stay protected.

Stephen Strange was not the most egoist of men. He was secure enough in his pride and sense of self to know that he was not the most humble either –not after everything he’d done and accomplished, all the paths he took that others couldn’t even begin to see and made him one of the best-, but he was not the most egoist man.

Once, he decided that he would be, and let himself dream of what could have happened if had chosen the egoist choice, just once.

It didn’t last. Of course it didn’t.

But it was a nice dream.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it Amy, even if it's not exactly what we both had in mind (not at all).
> 
> **Also, to anyone confused, this is basically what happened :**
> 
> Everything happened the way you know it in the MCU right up until Titan, where Stephen looked at the future (number of times undetermined) and came back with a different solution than one we got in the MCU. The solution is unknow. Just imagine that Stephen became some sort of Sleeping Beauty by using Mantis' powers on a loop to keep himself asleep so no one could use him to get the Time Stone.
> 
> He also used said Stone to create a temporal loop around himself so he wouldn't die of old age or anything else, nothing in the bumble could advance or go back in time and it was basically an endless looping bubble of time. Nothing could touch him and he would sleep forever, therefore making Thanos' plan a Big Fluke™ even if he ever got the Mind Stone -which he didn't, mind you (ah!), because the people on Titan still occupied him enough for Wanda to get distracted and Vision attacked in the forest, then killed as the Mind Stone was destroyed (something much easier to do as Thanos only had 4 Stones).
> 
> You can imagine what you want after, Thanos killing people out of spite, Thor ending him, it doesn't matter, Tony got Strange's plan and they all won one way or another.
> 
> The entire sequence before the cut was him going into his mind to experience some sort of lucid dream after he figured the solution to make a final introspection on his life. He tried to imagine a scenario where he would have left Kamar-Taj after Dormammu to deal with his trauma (and he imagined that with how little Wong and him knew each other and what the librarian had just lived there would have been a fallout) and get back to his old life with his hands healed, but figured he would have probably gone back because he couldn't imagine not being part of the Infinity War after all the lives he lived in the time loop starting on Titan.
> 
> TL;DR : Stephen tried to imagine not being a Master of the Mystic Arts. It didn't work. He saved the day once more but now he'll be the space sleeping beauty to keep the Time Stone safe.
> 
> P.S. Yes, there is a lot of thoughts going into this. Also, the first draft was 3333 words long, unfortunetly that changed during the editing. :b


End file.
